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“Oh fuck, Harry, I… fuck…”

Harry leans back, face impassive, and pushes two fingers slowly into Eggsy’s hot, slick arsehole again.  The drag of his skin in that snug passage is somehow both silky and rough at the same time, tight and perfect.  Harry does it again, and again, slow slow slow.

“Harry, please…”

Harry does not react, his pace unchanged.  Eggsy arches up where he is pressed against the smooth surface of Harry’s desk, his fair skin almost glowing against the burnished wood, whining and pressing back against the push of Harry’s hand.

Harry stops, pulls his fingers out.  Eggsy whimpers again, louder this time, and starts to turn, leaning up.

Quick as a snake Harry is on him, forearm hard across Eggsy’s back, slamming him down against the desk hard enough to knock a grunt from his lungs.  Harry brings his mouth to Eggsy’s ear as he leans down on him, his weight pressing the boy hard into the unyielding surface of the desk.

“I asked you not to move, Eggsy,” Harry says, voice betraying no emotion.  Eggsy writhes beneath him.

“Sorry, sorry, yeah, God, sorry,” Eggsy gasps out, even as he squirms against the pressure of Harry’s body.

Harry holds him there, looking down expressionlessly as the boy pants open-mouthed, his breath condensing on the surface of the desk, tiny whines still escaping him.

“Now, if you can control yourself, we will continue,” Harry says eventually, as he feels the tension start to leave Eggsy’s muscles.  In response the boy makes a low, pained sound and tries to spread his legs wider.

Harry allows himself a small smirk as he pulls himself up, knowing the boy will not see it, and deliberately looks down the length of Eggsy’s spine, drinking in the sight of his bare back, lithe and smooth, swelling into a firm rounded arse that makes Harry’s mouth water.  His own body, still hard and trim despite his advancing age, leans steadily just above that gorgeous expanse of skin.  His bespoke suit, a deep rich shade of blue, makes a stunning contrast to the pale cream of Eggsy’s bare body beneath him.

He hears a soft hum in his ear, and his smirk widens.

“Hold still, Eggsy, and take what I give you,” he says, pushing his two slick fingers back into the boy’s tight hole with no further warning.  Eggsy grunts and then lets out a long, low moan as Harry returns to his previous unhurried pace.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry distinctly remembers the moment that he first seriously considered seducing Eggsy.  He had noticed him right from the start, of course.  From the beginning the boy had been beautiful, full of an unconscious charm and enthusiastic joy that appealed to nearly everyone who met him.  The self-confidence and refinement he gained during his Kingsman training just made that charm all the more arresting.

The day that Harry’s aesthetic appreciation of Eggsy became active want was a result of nothing remarkable.  He had gone to speak with Merlin, who was monitoring a training session for the Lancelot candidates, and happened to glance down at the monitor just as Eggsy finished annihilating a series of long-distance targets on the range.  He stood up, pushing his goggles back on his forehead, and positively beamed, his joy in the achievement as bright as the sun, and Harry actually felt his breath stutter in his lungs.  Something about the combination of deadliness and innocence that Eggsy embodied so effortlessly simply reached right down into Harry’s chest and squeezed, and he could do nothing to prevent the sharp wave of lust that crashed over him.

Merlin noticed, of course, because Merlin notices everything.  He arched an eyebrow at Harry, who offered a small smile in return.  Merlin watched him for a moment longer, and then nodded once and turned back to his screens.  And just like that, Harry was decided.

And then, before he could do anything about it, the boy had come to him.

Eggsy had just returned from his first solo mission as the new Galahad since that whole V Day cock-up.  Harry, having been promoted to the position of Arthur, had intended to meet him at the Kingsman headquarters for a debriefing, but Eggsy texted ahead and asked if they could meet at his house instead.  Harry had not thought anything of it at the time.  Eggsy had been to his house plenty of times by then as his protégée, and Harry could understand wanting the comfort of familiar surroundings after the stress of a mission.

It turned out that Eggsy had had something other than comfort in mind.  Or, possibly, a different sort of comfort.

Partway through the debriefing it began.  Lingering glances, lingering touches.  Sitting just a bit too close, finding excuses to touch his own mouth.  Harry noticed immediately, because Eggsy was just absolutely terrible at seduction.  He was employing some of the more basic strategies taught during Kingsman training, but the guileless innocence that made up a large part of his charm meant that he was possibly the least subtle seducer Harry had yet come across.  It would not have worked anyway, of course, as Harry had had the same training as Eggsy plus years and years of experience in the field refining and expanding the techniques.  But honestly, he was missing the mark by so much that Harry had to make a conscious effort not to laugh.

“Now that’s just pathetic,” Merlin’s voice spoke in his ear.  Harry did not respond, other than to smile.  This was going to be so much fun.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

The boy is moaning low and continuously now, his muscles clenched rigid, his body wracked with tremors.  Harry has graduated to three fingers, keeping that same torturously slow pace.

He pauses, fingers just barely inside, and Eggsy does nothing more than gasp for breath while Harry slowly counts to ten in his head.

“So good, Eggsy.  You’re being so good for me.  I think you deserve a reward.”

“God, yes, please,” Eggsy gasps out, his voice positively wrecked, and the sentiment is echoed in a quiet whisper in Harry’s ear.  Harry hums.

He slides his fingers back inside Eggsy’s arse, probing gently until he contacts the small hard bump of Eggsy’s prostate and the boy cries out, squirming.  He parts the tips of his fingers and starts to move them back and forth around the hard little node, keeping the stimulation mostly indirect in the way that he knows from experience will reduce Eggsy to a gibbering mess but not quite bring him to orgasm.

Harry deliberately tips his face down to look at Eggsy, who has his head turned to one side, cheek pressed against the desk, his eyes squeezed tightly shut.  His mouth is wide open and he is panting out sharp little moans with every breath, almost like sobs, a puddle of drool forming beneath his face.  His hair is still incongruously neat, smoothed down in the rigidly ordered style that he is clearly, whether consciously or unconsciously, modeling after Harry.  But that’s alright; Harry has plans for later that will put paid to that careful hairstyle, will mess it up the same way that he plans to make a mess of the rest of Eggsy this evening.

Harry takes a moment to turn his head and look down his own body, still fully clothed, standing behind where Eggsy is bent over the desk, naked and bucking on his fingers.  He shifts so that his erection is obvious, distorting the line of his lovely bespoke trousers, and is rewarded by another low hum in his ear that causes his already hard cock to absolutely throb.  He continues to work Eggsy’s prostate ruthlessly, drinking in the boy’s moans and grunts and gasping breaths, the way his muscles twitch as he struggles to hold himself still, reveling in the occasional grunt in his ear.

“Please, please, please, please…” Eggsy starts to chant, his eyes screwed tightly shut, and Harry thinks he’s not even aware that he is doing it out loud.  He does not slow, does not stop.

“Put your hands behind your back,” he says, voice carefully even and emotionless.  Eggsy does sob, then, brokenly whispering nonsense into the surface of the desk, but he does as he is told nonetheless, crossing his wrists at the small of his back.  “Yes, very good,” Harry purrs, soothing, as he clasps Eggsy’s wrists tightly in his free hand and continues to fingerfuck him with the other.  “So good for me, aren’t you?  My gorgeous little slut, you should see yourself right now.  Spread out on my desk, naked and begging for it.  So beautiful.”  Eggsy’s ragged gasps are echoed by soft grunts in his earpiece, and Harry feels it like electricity down his spine.

Eggsy is getting close.  Harry can feel it in the way that Eggsy’s back is arching beneath the hand holding his wrists down, the way his muscles twitch with strain, the way his hole is clenching rhythmically around the intrusion of Harry’s fingers.  He adjusts the angle of his fingers and leans down, bringing his mouth closer to Eggsy’s ear, angling his head so that he can be sure he is providing a good view of Eggsy’s beautifully pained expression as he speaks.

“I want to see you come on my fingers, Eggsy.  Just like this, bent over my desk like a cheap whore.  You’re going to make a mess all over the floor beneath of my desk and you won’t even be able to help it, will you?  Because you can’t do anything but take it, take whatever I choose to give you, can you?” and he squeezes Eggsy’s wrists, still working his prostate.

Eggsy is arching his back so hard that his head is completely up off the desk.  He goes rigid as Harry speaks, gasping out a soft litany of “oh, oh, oh,” his arse clamping down hard on Harry’s fingers.

“That’s right, come for me.  Good boy,” Harry says, and Eggsy lets out a long wail and bucks furiously beneath him, coming hard and painting Harry’s office floor with semen as his muscles convulse around Harry’s hand.

“Oh yes, Harry,” says Merlin’s voice in his ear, low and thick with arousal.  The sight of Eggsy coming apart below him and Merlin’s words nearly combine to send Harry off in his pants right there, but he fights the urge back.  He still has plans for this evening, after all.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry let Eggsy continue his unfortunate attempts at seduction for a bit, carefully pretending not to notice and soaking in the knowledge that he would soon have this lovely boy spitted and writhing on his cock.  The anticipation was sweeter than honey on his tongue.

Merlin continued to make the occasional sarcastic comment about Eggsy’s technique through his earpiece, but by this time Harry had quite a lot of experience with Merlin speaking to him when he was unable to respond and so did not react, even when he was dying to laugh.  He would show the boy a thing or two about seduction before the evening was up, anyway.  The first of many lessons in the subject, if he had his way.

One of the most effective and subtle methods to seduce someone, Harry knew from both experience and training, was to make them believe that it was their idea.  Eggsy had already done the bulk of the work for him by actively beginning a seduction campaign, ill-conceived though it might be, so Harry decided that he would take advantage of the situation.

As the evening wound to a close, Harry decided that it was time to make a move.  He fixed them each a perfect martini and launched into a story about his early days in the field, speaking slowly and deliberately.  He waited until Eggsy licked his lips – something he had been doing with enough frequency all evening that Harry could have predicted the timing almost to the second – and then let his eyes linger on Eggsy’s mouth while his voice trailed off into silence.  After a fraction of a second he cleared his throat and continued, jerking his gaze up to Eggsy’s eyes.  He saw the flash of triumph that Eggsy felt reflected briefly in his expression and nearly grinned.

“Remind me never to offer him a mission that may require playing a card game,” Merlin said.  Harry could not help but agree, although he said nothing.  The boy had no poker face whatsoever.

The next time Eggsy brushed against him, Harry made sure to swallow visibly.  Eggsy copied the action directly afterwards.

Harry let his leg linger against Eggsy’s as they sat side by side on his sofa, making sure to keep the contact so light as to be nearly nonexistent.  Eggsy chased the feeling, pressing harder against him, and Harry let him.

He deliberately swiped his thumb through the smears of chocolate left on his dessert plate and then absentmindedly sucked it clean, carefully paying no attention at all to Eggsy as he did and then making sudden eye contact with the boy just as he dragged the digit from his mouth.  He pretended not to notice when Eggsy lost his train of thought.  Merlin laughed at that, his deep voice rolling through the earpiece and making Harry feel warm all over.

As the evening carried on, Harry went out of his way to praise Eggsy: his performance on his last mission, his physique, his skill with weapons.  He kept it subtle and watched as Eggsy drank it in, his eyes glowing brighter with each successive compliment.

By the end of the evening, Eggsy was watching Harry’s every move with obvious breathless anticipation, hanging on his every word.  His own attempts at seduction had been abandoned in favor of responding beautifully to Harry’s, although Harry did not think the boy was even aware that he was being seduced.

Finally, Harry decided it was time.  Eggsy was obviously getting increasingly interested, his cheeks flushed a truly pretty shade of pink and his pupils blown wide, and if there was one thing Eggsy was not, it was shy.  He would make a move soon.  So Harry slouched back into his sofa and turned to face Eggsy, his head tipped against the soft back cushion.  He softened his expression, looked into Eggsy’s eyes, and let his knees fall apart.

Eggsy was on him in an instant.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry scoops Eggsy up off the desk and gathers him up in his arms as the boy flops, limp, against his chest.  He sits down in his desk chair, holding Eggsy close to him, stroking his hair.  After a moment, Eggsy turns his face and snuggles into the front of Harry’s suit jacket.  Harry smiles softly down at him before swiveling the chair and directing his gaze at the full-length mirror he has placed against the wall.  The beautiful juxtaposition of Eggsy, curled small and soft and bare in his arms, and his own suit-clad form, firm and unyielding despite his tender expression, is reflected back at him.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Merlin says.  Harry’s smile deepens and he winks at his own reflection, gaze lingering for a moment before looking back down at the boy on his lap.

Eggsy’s breathing has returned to normal and he is snuggling his face into Harry’s shoulder, clutching at a lapel with one hand.  Harry crooks his fingers against Eggsy’s scalp and scratches lightly, and the boy pushes against the contact like a spoilt cat before raising his face up to nuzzle into the crook of Harry’s neck.

Harry raises his chin and Eggsy starts licking and sucking lightly along the skin of his neck, wiggling around on his lap until he can easily reach.  Harry lowers his hands to Eggsy’s hips, holding gently as the boy runs his hands up Harry’s arms and shoulders to cup his head.  Then Harry clutches Eggsy’s hips tightly and grinds his clothed erection up against the boy’s tight little arse.

Eggsy breaks away from his neck to gasp and wriggles in Harry’s grip.  Harry grins at his reflection over Eggsy’s shoulder and does it again, and Eggsy huffs out a hot breath against his neck.

“Mmm, spread him out for me,” Merlin says, voice low in Harry’s ear.  Harry slowly closes his eyes and opens them again, then grinds up against Eggsy’s arse once more before leaning back a bit and tipping Eggsy’s face up to look at him.

“Turn around,” he says.  Eggsy blinks at him for a moment, still looking a bit dopey and shagged out, and then offers a slow grin.  Wordless as he only ever gets during sex, Eggsy shifts on Harry’s lap, dragging his arse over the bulge in Harry’s trousers in a manner that has to be deliberate, until he is seated on Harry’s lap with his back to Harry’s chest, facing himself in the mirror.  Harry moves Eggsy’s body the way he wants him, spreads his knees until his legs are splayed wide and hooked around Harry’s thighs, tips him backward until he is leaning against Harry’s solid chest, arms hanging loosely at his sides, his head resting on Harry’s shoulder.

“Beautiful,” Merlin says, and Harry has to agree.  Eggsy is draped over him, endless bare skin almost glowing in the golden light of Harry’s office lamp, looking languid and relaxed.  His legs are spread wide across Harry’s lap, the deep blue of Harry’s suit framing his body.  His light pink nipples are hardened into tight points, and his neck is stretched out long and smooth where his head is tipped back onto Harry’s shoulder.  His cock is not erect yet, so soon after his last orgasm, but it is thickening in a way that Harry knows means it will be getting hard again soon enough.

Harry runs his hands along Eggsy’s inner thighs, enjoying the way that the skin twitches beneath his fingers, and then drags just his fingertips around Eggsy’s genitals and up along his chest.  He pinches Eggsy’s nipples, gently at first, rolling them between his fingers and then squeezing down harder, right on the edge of pain for a short moment before releasing them and watching them flush dusky red.  Eggsy sighs, arches his spine and pushes his chest out, so Harry does it again, watching avidly in the mirror.

Harry tongues at the thin skin of Eggsy’s neck, nipping and sucking, taking care to keep his head cocked so that he can see the whole tableau in the mirror.  In his ear, Merlin’s breath is coming in short, hard bursts; on his lap, Eggsy is humming and sighing and arching his spine so that his arse grinds down against Harry’s prominent erection, and Harry is in heaven.

He slides one hand down the flat plane of Eggsy’s stomach, trailing his fingers through the sparse hair that leads from his navel to his groin.  He gently cups Eggsy’s balls as he bites down on his neck and pinches his nipple with the other hand, drinking in Eggsy’s gasp, Merlin’s low hum.

“Look up, Eggsy,” Harry says, and it’s more effort now to keep his voice even and emotionless, but he manages it.  Eggsy lets out a soft whine and then raises his head from where it rests on Harry’s shoulder to look at his reflection in the mirror.  His cheeks stain a soft pink as he looks, and Harry delights in the way the color travels down his neck and across his bare chest.  He rolls Eggsy’s balls in his hand, squeezing softly.  “You look so beautiful like this,” Harry murmurs against Eggsy’s neck, and watches his blush deepen.

Eggsy arches his back again, deliberately rolling his arse against Harry’s cock through his trousers, and Harry lets out a low rumble.  He slides his hand once up and down Eggsy’s thickening cock, now almost completely erect, and then trails his hand down to the crease between Eggsy’s balls and his inner thigh.  He grips there, hard, and pulls him down, thrusting up against that delicious arse.  Eggsy gasps and closes his eyes, tipping his head back.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” Harry says, his voice stern, and drinks in Eggsy’s whimper before he complies with the instruction.  “Good boy.”  Eggsy whimpers again, blush darkening, but Harry can see his cock jump in response to the comment.  “I want you to watch, to keep your eyes on yourself the whole time,” Harry says, making sure that his voice is calm and level even as Merlin breathes hard into the earpiece.  “Watch the way you squirm, naked and spread open while I use you for my pleasure.”  Eggsy’s mouth has dropped open and his eyes are half-closed and he is panting already, though Harry has not even really started yet.  Harry makes eye contact with him in the mirror and gives his most predatory smile.

Eggsy moans.  So does Merlin.

Harry clenches his hand on Eggsy’s thigh and raises the other from his nipple to stick two fingers directly into the boy’s wet, open mouth.  He sets his teeth into the ridge of muscle just at the base of Eggsy’s neck, looking over Eggsy’s shoulder to keep eye contact with him in the mirror.  Then he starts to thrust.

Harry sets a fast, hard pace, pushing his erection up against the delectable swell of Eggsy’s arse and using his grip to tip Eggsy’s hips out, arching his spine even further, bending that gymnast’s body almost to the point of pain and drinking in the expression on Eggsy’s face.  As well as he can, he slides his fingers in and out of Eggsy’s slack mouth, delighting in the softness of his tongue, the saliva he can feel pooling against his hand as Eggsy moans and pants.

In the mirror, Harry can see Eggsy’s cock, hard and leaking onto his bare stomach, bouncing with each thrust.  He can see the drool starting to drip down Eggsy’s chin from where he cannot close his lips around Harry’s fingers, the way the boy’s eyes flutter as he fights to keep them open, wanting to follow Harry’s command even as he loses himself to bliss.  Harry grinds his cock up against Eggsy’s arse over and over, the friction of his own pants around his cock rough and just at the edge of painful in a way that is perfect because it stops him from coming in his trousers at the sight of Eggsy so debauched.

“Gorgeous little slut,” Merlin says, his voice rough.  The sound of it makes Harry’s cock throb.  “Look at him, look how badly he wants it.”

Harry grins.  He loves it when Merlin is in a talkative mood.

“Look at you,” Harry echoes, mouth against Eggsy’s ear as he continues to thrust against his arse, fingers still pushed deep into his mouth.  “Look how badly you want it.”  Eggsy moans brokenly, helplessly, and his cock pulses out another drop of precome as he makes eye contact with Harry in the mirror.

“Yes,” Merlin hisses.  “Tell him what a beautiful little slag he is.”  His accent has thickened in the way that Harry associates with extreme arousal or anger, and the sound of it pushes him higher.

“I love to see you like this,” Harry says as he drags his fingers hard down Eggsy’s tongue and then pushes them back into his mouth.  “I love the way you look when you let me use you, the way you give yourself to me and let me take what I want.”  Eggsy is moaning around his fingers, rolling his arse against Harry’s cock, panting harshly through his nose.  “You’re such a beautiful little whore.”  Eggsy lets out a loud, shuddering breath, and his eyes fall shut.  He tips his head back and starts trying to suck on Harry’s fingers, desperate and sloppy.

“Oh fuck,” Merlin chokes out, and his voice is thick and rough with arousal.

Harry’s arousal spikes and he freezes, cock pushed firmly against Eggsy’s writhing arse, fighting down the sudden need to come.  He pulls his fingers out of Eggsy’s mouth, ignoring the frantic little whine that escapes after them, and drops his hand to grip Eggsy’s throat.  Then he pushes his lips right up against Eggsy’s ear.

“Get on your knees.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

At first, Harry let Eggsy take control.  He still believed himself to be the seducer, and was clearly desperate to show Harry how enthusiastic he could be, based on his kissing technique.  So he allowed Eggsy to climb onto his lap, to straddle him and push him down onto the sofa cushions and kiss him and kiss him.  It was lovely really, tasting that lush little mouth for the first time.  Eggsy tasted of good quality gin, rich and crisp and evergreen, and he made the sweetest little sounds when Harry sucked suggestively on his tongue.

As they kissed, Eggsy began rolling his hips, rubbing his erection against Harry’s through their trousers with increasingly frantic little thrusts, grunting deep in his throat.  Harry allowed it initially, because it felt so good, but Eggsy just kept going, showing no signs of slowing down.

“You know he’s not going to stop until he comes in his suit, right?” Merlin said through the earpiece, sounding amused.

Harry was just coming to a similar conclusion himself, so he broke the kiss and pushed Eggsy up by the hips.  Eggsy whined and wiggled in his grip, seeking friction, and Harry felt a sharp pulse of lust stutter down his spine at the desperation in the sound.

“Eggsy, slow down,” he said, once Eggsy had stopped trying to break free of his grip.  He kept his voice even and firm, and watched as Eggsy responded by stilling instantly.  “There’s no hurry; we have all night.”

Hope bloomed across Eggsy’s face then, and Harry wondered briefly if the boy was moving so fast because he had thought Harry was going to change his mind any second.  If so, Harry was looking forward to breaking him of that notion.

“What an eager little slag,” Merlin murmured, his voice already dropping into that lower register that Harry knew meant he was aroused.  Harry grinned.

“Now, I think, would be a good time to move this to the bedroom,” Harry said.  Eggsy slid off him and stood up at that, visibly donning his usual brash confidence like a cloak as Harry watched.

“Sounds good to me.  Probably a better place to make you scream my name, anyway.”

“Yes,” Harry said, smiling his most predatory smile and slowly looking Eggsy up and down.  “Or something like that.”  Eggsy swallowed, and Harry could see the rate of his breathing increase from where he still sat on the sofa.

They made it up the stairs and onto the bed quickly, and with none of that groping and fumbling around that seems so romantic in movies but really just means that someone is going to take a nasty tumble down the stairs.  Once there, Harry gradually started the process of claiming control over the encounter, helped along by Eggsy’s obvious inexperience with men and his equally obvious complete love of being taken in hand and made to comply.

In very little time he had the boy stripped nude and lying face down on his bed, already covered in a thin sheen of sweat, breathing hard into the bedclothes.  Harry had kept his glasses on up until that point, drinking in Merlin’s sighs and hums and murmured encouragement and praise, but for what he was about to do there was no realistic way to wear glasses, and Merlin’s view would be fairly uninteresting anyway.  So Harry slid them off and placed them on the bedside table, carefully angled so that Merlin would have an excellent view of the proceedings from then on.  He would miss hearing Merlin in his ear as he continued the job of taking Eggsy apart, but needs must.  It was not as if this was the last time he would have that chance, after all.

Harry settled himself between Eggsy’s spread legs, kissed a path down the gorgeous dip of his spine, and without ceremony twisted his tongue around the rim of the boy’s tight little arsehole.  Eggsy let out a startled squeak and squirmed, shifting up the bed.  Harry immediately placed one hand on Eggsy’s back, firm and proprietary, and shushed him.

“Hold still for me, Eggsy,” he said, careful to keep emotion from his voice.  Beneath his hand, Eggsy froze, his muscles tense.

Harry leaned back in and continued to lick Eggsy’s arse, alternating light flicking licks at the edges with wicked spirals around the rim and deep penetrating thrusts of his tongue.  Eggsy gradually relaxed into the sensation, letting out tight moans and breathing hard.

After a few minutes of this, Harry raised his head and said, “Thank you, Eggsy, very good,” in that same neutral tone.

In response, Eggsy let out a long, deep moan and positively melted beneath Harry’s hand.  Harry smirked to himself even as he leaned back in and continued to rim Eggsy within an inch of his life.  He recognized that reaction, and it was the sweetest thing he had ever seen.  That was the behavior of a man who was absolutely desperate to please, and Harry wanted nothing more than to give him every opportunity.

Later, when he had rimmed Eggsy until he was all wet and loose and sloppy, until the boy’s moans had turned to breathless, helpless gasps, until he was sprawled bonelessly all over Harry’s duvet, Harry grabbed his glasses from the table, slicked himself up, and lay on his back on the bed, pulling Eggsy up onto him.  The boy came willingly, pliant and relaxed, straddling Harry where he lay and bracing his hands on Harry’s chest.  Harry looked him in the eyes and then guided his cock to rest against Eggsy’s wet, slicked open hole, and Eggsy moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“Look at me, Eggsy,” Harry said, doing his best to sound completely unaffected.  Eggsy moaned again before opening his eyes to meet Harry’s gaze.

“Good boy,” Harry said, and pushed up into Eggsy’s arse in one fast, steady stroke.  Eggsy let out a loud groan and pushed himself down against the pressure, taking Harry’s cock beautifully even as his muscles twitched and spasmed around the intrusion.

“Jesus, look at his face,” Merlin said, voice choked and rough.  Harry was already, but he understood Merlin’s point.  Eggsy’s face was contorted into the most sublime expression of beautiful agony that Harry had ever seen, balanced perfectly on the cusp between pain and pleasure.  Harry glanced down, and saw that Eggsy’s own erection was standing tall, apparently undaunted by the intense stimulation.

Christ but the boy was perfect.

Harry held still and let Eggsy be the one who started to move, finding a slow, grinding rhythm that must have dragged Harry’s cock across his prostate with every roll of his hips.  Eggsy braced himself on Harry’s chest and rocked back and forth, picking up speed as his expression melted into one of pure pleasure.

Harry waited until Eggsy was bouncing on his cock with abandon, and then braced his feet flat on the bed with his knees bent up and took a firm grip on Egssy’s hips.  He stilled Eggsy’s movement and then, before the boy could do more than whine and squirm, started fucking up into Eggsy’s hot, tight hole with brutal force.

Eggsy threw his head back, each punishing thrust driving a sharp moan from his lips as if Harry was pushing the air from his lungs.  His cock bounced with each impact, hard and leaking onto Harry’s belly, and Harry wished briefly that he could wrap his mouth around it.  Ah well, there was always next time.

Harry could feel himself getting close and he had no intention of slowing down.  “Eggsy,” he gasped, too far gone to control the tone of his voice, “Touch yourself.  I want to feel it when you come.”

“Oh shit, yeah,” Eggsy panted back, Merlin saying almost the exact same thing in his ear a second later as Eggsy wrapped one hand around his cock and started to pump.  Harry continued to fuck into him, alternating his gaze from Eggsy’s incredible expressions of pleasure to the beauty of him stroking himself while Harry drove up into him again and again.

Harry felt it when Eggsy started to come, the muscles of his arse rippling and clenching around Harry’s shaft, and he pushed up into Eggsy and held there, let the rhythmic squeezing milk his cock as Eggsy threw his head back and moaned and grunted and bucked, semen splattering down on Harry’s chest and stomach.

Once Eggsy’s spasms stopped, Harry continued to fuck him, but slower and with less force.  The combination of seeing and feeling Eggsy come on his cock and the nearly pained sounds Merlin had made when he did combined to push Harry almost to the edge, and he set the pace he needed to bring himself off as quickly as he could.  Above him, Eggsy was limp with pleasure, leaning back against Harry’s knees, hand still wrapped around his cock, the occasional shudder still wracking his body.

“Oh God, that’s good,” Merlin said, his voice hoarse and broken, and Harry let out a whine, squeezing his eyes closed.  “I love watching you fuck.”

And with that, Harry was coming, thrusting hard and repeatedly up into Eggsy, panting out harsh breaths and squeezing hard on Eggsy’s hips as his cock jerked and shot load after load of come into the boy’s gorgeous arse.

When Harry came back to himself somewhat, before he even opened his eyes, the first thing he heard was Merlin’s voice.

“Absolutely bloody perfect, Harry.”

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Eggsy collapses to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut, hitting the ground so hard that his knees will almost certainly have bruises tomorrow.  He kneels there, naked and flushed, his hard cock jutting up from his groin, his head tipped back to look up at Harry with heavy-lidded eyes.  He makes no move to wipe the saliva off his chin and his lush pink lips are parted and glistening, his slick wet tongue barely visible between them.  In the mirror, Harry can see the delicate curve of his spine, the soft roundness of his arse, his feet tucked beneath him.

Harry takes his time standing, letting his gaze drag up and down Eggsy’s body.  He straightens his cuffs before unbuttoning his suit jacket and sliding it off, taking a moment to hang it neatly over the back of his chair.  Eggsy sits motionless as he does, breathing hard through his open mouth, his eyes following Harry’s every move.

Finally, Harry moves to stand in front of Eggsy, facing himself in the mirror.  Moving deliberately, he pushes Eggsy’s knees further apart with the toe of one of his polished Oxfords.  Eggsy whimpers through his nose, his eyes locked on Harry’s face.  Then Harry slowly drops his hands to his trousers and opens his zip.  He is proud of Eggsy when the boy keeps his eyes on Harry’s face the way he prefers, instead of looking down at his groin.

“Very good, lad,” he says, pausing to stroke his fingers softly down Eggsy’s cheek.  Eggsy closes his eyes for a moment and leans into the caress before looking back up at Harry.

Harry slowly slides his shoulder holsters off of his arms and lays them on the desk before making eye contact with Eggsy, easing down his fly, and pullng his achingly hard cock out though the placket of his trousers, leaving the garment otherwise undisturbed.

“Mmm, very nice,” Merlin purrs.  Harry’s cock throbs.

Eggsy keeps his eyes on Harry’s, but his lips part further and he sucks in a short gasp of air as Harry takes himself in hand and gives his cock a few light strokes.  He pauses, his erection a few short inches from the hot cavern of Eggsy’s mouth, and smiles down at the boy.  Eggsy stares back up at him avidly.

Harry leans forward and uses his hand to guide the tip of his cock along Eggsy’s jaw, his cheek.  He deliberately drags it across Eggsy’s soft pink lips, painting them in glistening precome.  Eggsy sits, motionless, mouth open, staring at Harry with desperation in his eyes.

This moment, right here, this is Harry’s favorite thing about fucking Eggsy.  The way that he sinks so far under, trusts so deeply and gives himself so freely, that he’ll do anything, absolutely anything that Harry tells him to do.  When he’ll sit, mouth open, Harry’s slick drying on his lips, and wait for permission to lick them.

Fuck.

Harry hesitates a second longer, just because he can, and then slowly, smoothly, pushes his cock into Eggsy’s warm wet mouth.  Over his earpiece, Merlin lets out a long, low moan.

He pushes in gently, stopping and pulling back before he bottoms out in Eggsy’s throat.  Eggsy sucks hard, frantically, around his length, his eyes fluttering closed before opening again to focus on Harry’s.  Harry pushes in again, further, and then again, further still, letting Eggsy slurp around his cock the way he loves.  He knows exactly how much Eggsy can take and he works up to it until each steady, even thrust pushes the head of his cock right into Eggsy’s throat.

After several of these, Harry stops and pulls his cock completely out of Eggsy’s mouth.  The boy chases it for a moment, eyes closed, before recalling himself enough to rest back on his heels and wait.  When his eyes open, Harry smiles down at him and then drags the head of his cock along Eggsy’s cheek, smearing it with his own saliva.  Merlin groans as Eggsy pants up at him.

Harry pushes just the head between Eggsy’s lips and pauses, lets it rest there.  Eggsy responds immediately, trying to lean forward to take more in, but Harry stops him with a hand in his hair.  Instead Eggsy swirls his tongue around it and sucks, doing his absolute best to pleasure as much of Harry as he is permitted to touch.  It makes Harry feel warm and fond right down in his chest.

“God, you look fantastic with my cock in your mouth,” he says, scratching his nails through Eggsy’s hair.  Eggsy moans around him, looking up through his lashes as he continues to lick and suck the head of Harry’s cock.

Harry brings his other hand up and takes a firm grip of Egssy’s head, and feels the boy tremble beneath his palms.

“Hands behind your back,” he says.  Eggsy complies without hesitation, bringing his arms behind him and gripping each forearm with the opposite hand.  Harry watches approvingly in the mirror, enjoys the way that the position forces Eggsy’s spine to curve further, renders him even more helpless.  “Very good, Eggsy.”

And with no further warning, Harry thrusts in hard, bracing Eggsy with the grip in his hair and shoving his cock as far in as it will go, right down into Eggsy’s throat.  Eggsy twitches, spine rolling, but makes no sound around the intrusion of Harry’s cock.  Harry draws out and does it again, fast, giving Eggsy no chance to recover.

He sets a ruthless pace, fucking Eggsy’s throat without mercy, fingers twined through Eggsy’s hair and pulling his head hard with each thrust.  Eggsy’s eyes fall shut and he is sucking in short harsh bursts of air through his nose whenever Harry pulls his cock out far enough that Eggsy can breathe, letting out hard deep grunts when Harry pushes back in.

Harry alternates looking down at Eggsy, swallowing his cock so beautifully as saliva drips from the corners of his mouth and runs down his chin, and his own reflection in the mirror, still wearing his dress shirt, his suit trousers, the very picture of authority and power as he drives his cock over and over into the mouth of the naked boy at his feet.  Over the earpiece, Merlin is moaning and gasping as if it’s his cock getting sucked, and the sounds of Merlin and Eggsy combined are pushing him higher, sending sharp stabs of lust lancing through him.

Without warning he pulls his cock from Eggsy’s mouth and uses his grip on the boy’s hair to crane his neck back hard, forcing Eggsy to look up at him.  Eggsy pants heavily, swollen lips parted, chin glistening with saliva, eyes closed.  He is the most beautiful thing that Harry has ever seen.

Harry bends forward until his lips are just above Eggsy’s, until each breath that Eggsy pants out is pushed straight into Harry’s lungs.  “Eggsy, my gorgeous boy,” Harry says softly, letting his lips brush over Eggsy’s feather light.  Eggsy strains up against Harry’s grip in his hair, blindly seeking his lips, but Harry does not allow him to move.  “Bend over for me.”  

Eggsy whines desperately as Harry straightens up and releases his hair.  He turns on his knees until his back is toward Harry and he is facing the mirror before dropping down to his elbows.  The curve of his spine pushes his arse up, round and lush, perfectly presented for Harry to take whatever he wants.

Harry stops, drinks in the sight of Eggsy bent over and spread open for him, his hole still glistening with lube from the fingerfucking Harry had given him earlier.  Then he gracefully lowers himself to his knees, still fully clothed with only his hard wet cock jutting out through the opening of his trousers.  He places himself carefully between Eggsy’s wide-spread knees, gently grips those perfect hips, and rests the length of his cock along the crack of Eggsy’s arse.  Eggsy and Merlin moan in tandem.

“Eggsy,” Harry says, fighting down the wash of lust that sweeps him to keep his voice even, “look up.  Look at me.”

It takes Eggsy several moments to comply, but Harry lets him have them.  When he does finally raise his head and open his eyes to look at Harry in the mirror, Harry has to stifle the urge to groan out loud.  With his hair ruined, his eyes heavy-lidded and barely focused, his cheeks flushed red, his mouth still shiny with saliva, Eggsy looks absolutely fucking wrecked.

“Christ, that’s lovely,” Merlin says, voice low.  Harry licks his lips, eyes never leaving Eggsy’s in the mirror, and feels the boy quiver beneath his hands.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry had been an agent for several years before he ever heard Merlin’s voice.

By that time, Harry had already developed a reputation at the agency for recklessness, for taking stupid risks and attempting impossible stunts.  That these risks frequently panned out in his favor, resulting in the highest effectiveness rating of all the knights, was somehow always overlooked when Harry was called into Arthur’s office and given yet another dressing down for “threatening the integrity of the mission” or “wasting valuable resources” or “behaving like you think you’re invincible, you bloody idiot.”

If Harry’s relationship with Arthur was strained, his relationship with the tech people was completely fucked.  They were, in Harry’s opinion, a bunch of useless ninnies, always telling him to wait, to call for back-up, to collect surveillance data and return later rather than simply finishing the task at hand.  They were also, as far as he was concerned, unnecessarily attached to their gear, and had no problem berating him when he lost things, or blew them up, or dropped them in the ocean.  Honestly, it was not as if he meant to.

Initially, Merlin had been just another nameless voice in his ear, unique only in that Scottish brogue that made his words sound almost musically cadenced as he recited building schematics and reported on the number of people in the next room based on the heat signatures shown on the infrared and sighed resignedly when Harry ignored his advice and charged in anyway.  However, it only took a short time before he stopped suggesting courses of action and simply began giving Harry the information he needed to make his own choices, appraising him of the details that were most likely to increase the possibility that his stupid behavior would result in success.

It was after one of these missions, during which the man had provided information not only about the locations of the criminals he was facing, but also the most likely locations for the kidnapping victims he was seeking, quickly and without Harry’s having to ask despite the fact that his mission was supposed to be recon rather than rescue, that Harry decided that he could not let it go.

“Head back to headquarters for debriefing tomorrow, Agent Galahad.  Signing out,” the Scottish voice came over Harry’s earpiece.

“Wait,” Harry said, glancing around to make sure he was alone so no one would see him talking to himself.

“Yes?” the voice came again, frostily polite.  Harry supposed he couldn’t blame him.  His rows with the tech people were well known throughout Kingsman.

“Listen, thanks for that back there.”

“I’m just doing my job.”

“No you’re not,” Harry said, amused despite himself.  “Your job is to tell me I’m being a reckless idiot and refuse to answer my questions unless I agree not to charge in by myself.  Or at least, that’s how everyone else there does this job.”

The man laughed, voice deep and rich, and Harry felt warm all over.  “Would you have listened?”

“Of course not.”

“Right then.”  The brogue was back, thicker than before.  Harry grinned.  “So I thought I’d do my best to make sure you succeeded instead.”

“I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

The line went silent for a moment.

“So,” Harry finally said.  “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Merlin.”

“Well, Merlin, what would you think of being my personal handler?  I don’t work very well with the rest of them anyway, and I like your approach.”

“Sounds good to me, Agent Galahad, but I’ll leave it to you to make the request.”  Merlin’s voice dripped with amusement.  Harry repressed a groan, imagining that conversation with Arthur.

“Right, thanks.  Talk to you soon, then,” he said instead, deliberately brash.  Merlin did not respond.

In the end, Arthur had no problem with assigning Merlin to Harry as his personal handler; no one else in tech was interested in working with him anymore anyway.  And thus began Harry’s best and longest friendship.

The two of them worked together like a well-oiled machine, Merlin allowing Harry to make the tactical decisions without comment and providing any pertinent information quickly and smoothly to ensure Harry’s success.  Harry’s percentage of successful missions continued to increase, and he very seldom ended up in the infirmary for anything more serious than a stab wound, which was progress.

Gradually, over the years, their friendship started to grow as well.  Initially Merlin would sign off as soon as a mission was complete, but slowly he started to keep the line open more and more, talking to Harry about things other than mission information.  They got along surprisingly well, Harry thought, considering that they never met in person.

Within five years of their first conversation, Harry had taken to wearing his Kingsman glasses at all times, and Merlin generally left the line open continuously, although he often had to go for short periods of time to perform other work-related activities.  It suited Harry well, their odd friendship.  He was a solitary man by nature and valued his independence, but he greatly enjoyed talking to Merlin, listening to his interesting perspective on things, hearing his warm Scottish burr as he made astute observations and bitchy remarks.  And it was clear that Merlin enjoyed his company as well, based on the amount of time he spent on the line with Harry, talking about nothing in particular.  All in all, it was a perfect relationship.

And if Harry sometimes wondered whether Merlin would ever want to meet in person, maybe get dinner together, he managed to keep himself from asking.  He could tell, just from the way Merlin spoke and the things they discussed, that he was skittish of close relationships, and Harry had no intention of risking their friendship over something like that.

Then Harry received his first honey pot mission since joining Kingsman.

Reading over the dossier, Harry felt unaccountably nervous.  He had trained for this, just as he had for many other scenarios, and it was less dangerous than most he had done.  And he certainly was not the type to shy away from recreational sex, as his many one night stands could attest.  But, possibly because he had not yet had a chance to put his neuro-linguistic programming training to use in a professional setting, or possibly because he had more confidence in his fighting skills than he did in his seduction skills, something about this assignment made him feel twitchy.

Of course he confided this to Merlin as soon as he had an opportunity, which was on the jet on his way to the hotel in Rio de Janeiro where he was supposed to meet his target.  Merlin’s reaction, predictably enough, was to scoff.

“Oh, come on.  You’ll do fine.  It’s not as if you’re not pretty enough, after all.”

Harry froze, and could feel himself blushing at Merlin’s off-hand comment.  Quickly he spoke, to cover how flattered he was that Merlin thought he was attractive.  “Still, though.  It’s been years since NLP training.  I’ve already forgotten most of it.”

“Harry, stop overthinking it.  You’re the best agent in Kingsman, you’ve got this.”

Harry flushed again, feeling warm and tingly.  “Would you stay on the line for a while?  Talking to you helps.”

“Of course.”

By the time the jet landed in Rio, Harry was feeling much more relaxed and confident.  Merlin kept up a running commentary in his ear as he took a taxi through the city and strolled into the hotel bar, dark blue pocket square tucked like a flag into his right jacket pocket, and glanced around for his target as nonchalantly as he could.

“Got him, near the window along the south wall.  Ugly sod, isn’t he?”

Harry nearly blew it by laughing as he let his eyes roam across the south wall, taking note of his target without pausing, and then turned back to the bar.  He was, indeed, an ugly sod, and old as well, but none that was relevant to the mission; Harry had to seduce him regardless.  Harry settled at the bar, feeling more confident than ever.

His confidence, it turned out, was well placed.  It took practically no time at all for the mark to approach him once his pocket square was spotted.  He plied Harry with expensive drinks, told boring stories obviously intended to make it clear that he was rich, and had a hand pressed possessively on Harry’s thigh within the first twenty minutes of conversation.  Harry did not even have to try, although he did have to make a serious effort to appear flattered and interested rather than repulsed.

Merlin kept up his commentary and quips at first, helping Harry look entertained as the mark droned on about his summer house in Italy, but as the conversation continued he gradually fell silent.  By the time they stumbled into the mark’s hotel room, Harry pretending to be drunk and silly, giggling brainlessly as the mark groped his arse, Merlin was gone from his ear.

The sex was predictably mediocre.  The man didn’t even strip Harry out of his suit, just pushed him onto the bed, pulled his trousers down, and bent him over the headboard.  The only bright point, from Harry’s perspective, was the wall of mirrors along one side of the room, and he carefully kept his head turned that way to watch in full profile as the mark unimaginatively pumped away at him. 

Until, that is, Harry heard a familiar voice with a distinct Scottish brogue gasp a whispered, “Oh, yes,” through his earpiece.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry drags the length of his cock along the crack of Eggsy’s arse, the head catching on the rim of his arsehole for just a second before continuing the long, luxurious slide.  Eggsy lets out a whimper, head starting to fall forward before he catches himself and faces toward the mirror again.  He already looks shagged out, entirely lost to bliss, and Harry wants to push him and push him until he breaks completely.

“Eggsy,” he says.  Eggsy’s head rolls on his neck a bit before he manages to make eye contact with Harry in the mirror.  Harry drags his cock along the boy’s arse again.  “Tell me what you want.”

Eggsy looks at him, mouth open and panting, but does not react except to shudder.  Harry smiles, squeezes his hips.

“Look at you, bent over and absolutely gagging for it.  You’re so fucking perfect, Eggsy.  My perfect boy, my gorgeous little slut.”  As he speaks, Harry pushes the heel of one hand down Eggsy’s spine, grounding and firm.  In the mirror, Eggsy’s eyes flutter shut.  “You’ll do whatever I want right now, won’t you Eggsy?  You’re absolutely desperate to please me.”  Eggsy whimpers and wriggles his hips in Harry’s hands, trying to push backwards, seeking friction.  Harry squeezes, holds him still.  “And what I want right now, Eggsy, is to hear you beg.”

Merlin groans, long and low, and a surge of desire rolls through Harry as Eggsy opens his eyes again to look at Harry in the mirror, his face slack, looking absolutely drugged with pleasure.  Eggsy licks his lips and swallows before opening his mouth.

“Harry,” he slurs out, voice cracked and rough.  “Harry, please…”

Harry smiles, predatory and sharp.  “Yes, my dear boy?”

“Please,” Eggsy says again, and he sounds desperate, broken, helpless.  Lust throbs white hot in Harry’s veins.  “Please, I need…” he pauses, panting open-mouthed, “Please, Harry, fuck me…”

“Yes,” Merlin hisses into his ear, and Harry exhales sharply.

“Oh yes,” Harry echoes, and Eggsy lets out a sob, dropping his head onto his forearms.

Harry pulls back, sliding his cock out from between Eggsy’s cheeks.  He bends down and spits a gob of saliva directly onto Eggsy’s arsehole, just because he wants to, just because he likes marking him this way, even though he knows that the boy will still be loose and wet from the fingerfucking Harry gave him earlier.  Eggsy bucks when the saliva hits his sensitive rim and then lets out a long, shuddering breath.

“Eggsy,” Harry says, carefully pitching his voice in the same tone that he has used in the past to chastise the boy for using the wrong fork, for shaking a martini, “I’m sure I asked you to look up.”  As he speaks he rolls the head of his cock through the liquid coating Eggsy’s crease, teasing the sensitive pink rim.

Eggsy lifts his head, eyes immediately finding Harry’s in the mirror.  His mouth is open, lips swollen and shiny, and his face wears the most beautiful expression of aching longing that Harry has ever seen.

“Good boy,” Harry breathes, and pushes the head of his cock into Eggsy’s hole.

Eggsy keens, and Harry has to pause as the muscles in Eggsy’s arse flutter and clench down beautifully around him.  He watches Eggsy in the mirror, stares at his face now contorted in an expression that looks perfectly balanced halfway between pleasure and pain as the boy struggles to keep his head up.  Over the earpiece Merlin is making the most delicious noises, grunts and heavy breaths and low moans, and Harry drinks it in.

Slowly, gently, Harry pushes in deeper.  Beneath him, Eggsy is writhing and moaning continuously, arching his spine, shoving his arse back.  His head is rolling around as he fights the overwhelming waves of sensation to comply with Harry’s command, and the sight of his obvious struggle for obedience sends desire and satisfaction burning like fire through Harry’s veins.

He bottoms out inside Eggsy’s arse and grinds his cock around in a circle, enjoying the way that Eggsy jumps and moans sharply when he rubs across just the right spot.  He pulls out, looking down as his glistening cock slides from the boy’s tight hole and listening to Merlin gasping in his ear, until just the head is inside.  Then he pushes forward, hard and fast, and starts fucking Eggsy in earnest.

Harry sets a steady pace, the kind of pace he knows he can maintain for hours, fast enough to make his toes curl but not quite fast enough to bring him off.  He alternates between watching Eggsy’s reflection in the mirror as he fucks into him and watching the steady slide of his own cock in and out of the boy’s stretched hole.  In the mirror, Eggsy’s face is melting into a look of pure pleasure, his eyes closed, mouth wide open as he pants and moans.

The combination of Eggsy’s face and Merlin’s noises are pushing Harry higher and higher, absolute bliss rippling through his body, but there is one more thing he intends to do to Eggsy before he lets himself come.  So he slows his thrusts, rolls his hips, pushes in shallow and sharp until Eggsy cries out beneath him with every thrust.

Harry leans forward until he can lick and bite along Eggsy’s shoulders, pinching the skin between his teeth and sucking dark bruises onto the fair canvass of Eggsy’s back.  He reaches around and catches hold of Eggsy’s cock, hard and thick and absolutely dripping wet with precome, and grips it firmly.  Eggsy lets out a gasping, broken moan.

“So good for me,” Harry pants out as he continues to thrust shallowly into Eggsy’s arse.  “So perfect, my lovely boy.”  He pauses to bite down hard on Eggsy’s shoulder, and Eggsy keens.  “And now, I want to feel you come around my cock.”

“Ohhh fuck,” Eggsy slurs out as Harry starts stroking him, hard and fast and perfect, just the way he knows Eggsy likes it best.  His hips start to hitch immediately, pushing forward into Harry’s grip and back onto his cock, and Eggsy is moaning continuously now.

The boy has been on edge for a long time and very quickly Harry can feel the rhythmic clenching of his arse that signals he is about to come.  Harry does not slow his hand, his thrusts.

“Yes Eggsy,” he growls, voice hoarse and deep, his cheek pressed against Eggsy’s shoulder.  “Yes, come for me, my perfect little fuck.  Just like that, let me feel you.”

Eggsy cries out and spasms beneath him, hips bucking frantically, muscles clenching down hard and repeatedly around Harry’s cock, and it is so tight and perfect that Harry almost cannot stand it.  He forces himself to keep moving, to fuck Eggsy through his orgasm, continues to pump his cock until the boy starts whimpering and struggling against Harry’s grip.

Then he straightens up, gripping Eggsy tight by the hips with both hands, and starts to fuck the boy as hard and fast as he can.

Eggsy cries out, clawing blindly at the floor, his cheek pressed down into the rug and his eyes squeezed shut.  He bucks and writhes in Harry’s grip, his hips jerking back and forth as he tries to escape the overstimulation, but Harry just squeezes tighter and continues to fuck into him relentlessly.

Harry can see the exact moment that Eggsy surrenders completely.  His body goes limp, all the tension leaving his back and shoulders as he melts down onto the floor.  His eyes are closed, mouth open, and he is letting out little sobbing cries each time Harry slams into him but making no attempt to move.  He simply gives himself over to Harry, lets Harry fuck him and use him the way he wants; becomes, for a moment, a willing vessel for Harry’s pleasure and nothing more.

The sight of it, of Eggsy giving himself completely to Harry in this way, is enough to push Harry right to the edge.  He keeps fucking the boy, holding his hips tight enough that he knows Eggsy will bear bruises there tomorrow, and looks up to make eye contact with himself in the mirror.

“Oh fuck, Harry, fuck,” Merlin gasps out, as soon as he does.  “So fucking good, sweet Christ, yes.”  And then he moans, long and loud.  The sound of Merlin’s voice as he comes from watching Harry fuck Eggsy is all Harry needs, and he pushes deep into Eggsy’s arse and holds himself there as his orgasm hits him, sharp and sudden.  Pleasure rolls through him and he grinds into Eggsy, chasing the sensation, letting it fill him until his cock pulses and he comes and comes deep inside Eggsy’s hot wet arse.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Harry had always known that he had an unusual proclivity.  He had never brought it up with a lover, mostly because he seldom had the same one around long enough to start sharing sexual fantasies, but Harry knew that he liked the idea of being watched.  He always had mirrors around, especially in his bedroom, and he preferred to look at himself during sex and imagine how he would look to someone watching from the outside, whether the sight of him would turn them on.  When he wanked, he often did so with the bedsheets thrown back and the mirror up, and more often than not he came to the thought of someone peeking in at him through the window or the door and wanking along.

Hearing Merlin, to whom Harry knew he was hopelessly attracted just on the basis of personality, apparently watching and making those breathless little sounds of pleasure as Harry was getting a dull fuck from an unattractive man, was nearly all of Harry’s wet dreams come true.

For a moment Harry froze, staring at himself in the mirror, his eyes widened comically.  He heard another gasp through the earpiece, this one almost certainly not pleasure, but then he was letting his eyes fall closed and moaning out loud – the first genuine sound of pleasure he had yet made during this encounter.  He heard a sharp intake of breath at that, nearly covered by the mark saying something fittingly derogatory and redoubling his efforts to pound Harry through the headboard.

Harry opened his eyes and looked directly at his reflection, at his glasses.  “Oh, yes,” he moaned out, panting and not breaking eye contact with himself.

The mark was answering, talking dirty like bad film dialogue, but Harry could safely ignore him.  Instead he concentrated on what he could hear through his earpiece.

“Harry?”  Merlin’s voice came after a moment, soft and questioning.

“God, yes, give it to me,” Harry gasped.  The mark said something else but it didn’t matter at all because at that, Merlin moaned out loud and said his name again, this time in a voice filled with desire.  “Fuck yeah,” Harry responded, still staring at his own reflection, drinking in the sounds of Merlin’s arousal.

Harry braced himself with one hand on the headboard and shoved the other into his open trousers, bunched up at the tops of his thighs.  He made sure to hold himself at the right angle so that his actions were reflected in the mirror and then started jerking his cock, fast and rough, arching his back like a porn star.

Merlin was gasping and grunting into his earpiece, and every single sound was sending a throb of desire through Harry’s body.  Suddenly, instead of gritting his teeth through the encounter, he was riding a wave of pleasure like he had never felt before.  He wondered, briefly, how much better it could be if the sex itself was good, but the next second Merlin started swearing creatively in a thickened Scottish accent and Harry stopped thinking about anything else.

Behind him, the mark was obviously getting close, hunching forward over Harry, slamming into him repeatedly and with no finesse whatsoever.  But that was fine, really, because it sounded like Merlin was about to come as well, and hearing Merlin coming while watching him get fucked was absolutely all Harry needed.  He jerked himself faster, moaning and bucking and generally making a spectacle, and let the delicious sound of Merlin’s orgasm push him right over the edge.

As soon as Harry collapsed, sweaty and sated, to the mattress, Merlin went silent.  Harry waited for a short time, in case he returned, and then carried on with his mission.  He waited until the mark went to take a shower and then broke into his briefcase, rifling through the contents in the way that he had been explicitly instructed not to do, but as he found nothing incriminating enough to be worth taking he went ahead and planted the tracking device and left the papers as they were, as per mission protocol.  He thought Arthur would be proud.

Merlin did not answer him on the jet back to London.  He did not answer once Harry got home, and he did not answer when Harry came into the Kingsman shop.  It was the longest they had gone without speaking in well over a year, and it made Harry feel bereft.

Finally he gave up and took the secret underground train to the Kingsman mansion, where the tech department was based.  He made his way to the tech laboratory uncontested and, deliberately radiating confidence, strolled casually inside as if he owned the place.

Once inside, Harry was able to spot Merlin immediately without even employing any of his training, despite the fact that he had never seen the man in person before.  Merlin was the only one who responded to Harry’s sudden appearance with an expression of fury, rather than the polite confusion everyone else was expressing.  His shaved head, blade of a nose, and impressively terrifying glare only emphasized his hostility.

Even so, he refused to leave the lab until Harry actually threatened to have the row right there with everyone watching.

Once sequestered in a private room, Merlin began the conversation by spitting out the angriest apology that Harry had ever heard.

Harry shrugged.  “No need to apologize, you know.  I rather enjoyed myself.”

“It was inappropriate.”

“Oh yes, heaven forbid we do anything inappropriate,” Harry said, deliberately mocking.

Merlin shot him a scowl.  “I shouldn’t have done it, and it won’t happen again.  I’ll put in a request to get you a new handler immediately.  I should have done so already.”

“Don’t do that, Merlin.”  Harry offered a suggestive smile and took a step toward him, hand raised.  “Besides, what if I wanted it to happen again?”

To his surprise, Merlin responded by jumping backward, even though they were still some distance apart, eying Harry’s hand as if he were holding a venomous snake.  “See, that’s just it.”  His voice sounded fragile, all of a sudden.  Weary and resigned and a little bit sad, instead of angry.  “I don’t… I don’t want a relationship, nothing like that.  I’m not interested in that sort of thing at all.  And I really, really hate to be touched.”

Harry cocked his head, considering.  This was new and unexpected, but not necessarily bad.  “You enjoyed watching me, though, with the mark.  Got off on it.”

“Yes,” Merlin responded reluctantly, as if the word was being dragged out of him.

Harry nodded.  “Well then, I have an idea.”

Merlin shot him a look of inquiry, arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“How about this: we continue on as we have been, coworkers and close friends, talking through the glasses.  But then, sometimes, I go out and find someone to fuck, and you watch and get off on it and I listen to you enjoying yourself and get off on that.”

Merlin looked incredulous.  “Really?  And that’s an arrangement you’d be happy with, is it?”

Harry paused and thought about it, because he knew it was a serious question, but he was already sure.  This way he could keep his best friend and his independent lifestyle, could continue fucking his way through half of London, and would have the added benefit of fulfilling his favorite fantasy whenever he had sex.  That actually sounded to Harry like the world’s best idea.

So he smiled his sauciest smile and said, “Absolutely.”

Merlin looked at him for a moment and then nodded, eyes narrowed.

“Excellent.  In that case, are you working later this evening?”

“Not necessarily.  Why?” Merlin answered, still looking wary.  Harry wondered then whether he had tried to find a similar no-strings relationship in the past with poor results.

“Because I intend to go straight back to London, head out to a bar, pick up the first person I see who looks like a good fuck, and take them back to mine.  I need to wash the taste of the mark from Rio out of my mouth, so to speak.  I was wondering whether you would like to join me,” and Harry tapped on his glasses, just to be sure Merlin was clear on the nature of the invitation.

Merlin hesitated and Harry found his heart in his throat.  It was so close to perfect, if only Merlin could see it.  He bit his lip without intending to, and Merlin’s eyes jumped to his mouth.

“I suppose I could be available,” he said, finally.  Harry grinned.

Absolutely perfect.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Afterward, when Harry has recovered himself, when Eggsy has collapsed into a heap of sticky, sweaty limbs on his office floor, shivering uncontrollably, Harry rises to his feet and scoops the boy up into his arms.

He carries Eggsy upstairs to his bedroom, lays him gently on the center of the duvet, and goes to collect some warm damp flannels.  Eggsy is still shivering when he returns, and Harry wipes him clean as efficiently as he can without being rough about it.  Then he strips unceremoniously out of his suit, finally removing his glasses, which he places carefully on the nightstand facing the bed just in case Merlin is still watching.  He climbs into bed with Eggsy and wraps them both up in the fluffy down-filled duvet.  He snugs himself right up against Eggsy’s back, big spoon to his little, and presses as much of his skin against that compact, gorgeous body as he is able.

This close, Harry can feel Eggsy’s little, hitching breaths, see the tracks of tears on his cheeks.  He murmurs soft, quiet endearments into the boy’s hair, dropping little kisses along the edge of his hairline, holds him with firm, steady pressure, and waits for Eggsy to come back to him.

Idly, his thoughts drift to Merlin as he is nuzzling into Eggsy’s hair.  Harry knows that Merlin does not usually care much for this part of the process, although Harry himself finds it to be an emotional necessity, nearly as satisfying in its own way as the sex.  But he also knows that Merlin is more attached to Eggsy than he has been to anyone else Harry has ever fucked, that he likes and cares about the boy in his own right.  He wonders whether Merlin is still with them now, or whether he has wandered off, possibly to make himself a drink.  It doesn’t matter, not really.  But Harry thinks, with the wistfulness that always swamps him after such an intense scene, that someday he’d like to spend time with Merlin afterwards, even if they just sit and sip tea together in silence.

In his arms, the tension has started to leave Eggsy’s body and his breathing is smoothing out.  Not long now, Harry thinks warmly, whispering praise against the shell of his ear.

Another thought that has been increasingly intruding on his mind lately, especially during the quiet, peaceful moments like these, is that Eggsy should be told about Merlin.  For the first time in their entire history, Harry finds himself feeling guilty about allowing Merlin to watch the private moments he shares with a sexual partner without their permission.  That feeling, when he first became aware of it, was so completely outside his experience that it took him quite a while to identify it for what it was, but these days it haunts him with increasing regularity.

Harry has no intention of altering his relationship with Merlin.  They’ve been… whatever they are… for more years than Eggsy has been alive, and Merlin is too important to him for that.  But all the same, he does not want to continue this thing with Eggsy ignorant.  He is honest enough with himself to recognize that he is very quickly becoming besotted with the boy, and deceiving him is becoming actively uncomfortable.  He resolves to speak to Merlin about it sooner rather than later.

In his arms, Eggsy rolls over until they are pressed together, chest to chest.  His cheeks are still shiny with tears and his hair is absolutely wild, but his face is calm and peaceful and glowing with contentment.

“Hi,” he breathes out, soft against Harry’s face.

“Hello there,” Harry answers, the fondness he feels leaking into his voice.  Eggsy nuzzles gently against his neck for a moment and then tips his face up, smiling softly.  And Harry can do nothing else, then, but bring their mouths together in a sweet, gentle kiss.

Eggsy hums into it, wonderfully pliant and soft beneath him, and when Harry pulls away he follows, capturing Harry’s lips with his and licking slowly, deliberately into his mouth.  Harry rolls himself until he is above Eggsy, partially resting on his chest and braced on one arm, and sinks back down into the kiss.  The sensation of it, of kissing Eggsy this way, slow and lazy and deep, is lush, luxurious – it feels like extravagance, and Harry lets himself get lost in it.

When they eventually break apart, Harry feels like himself again, revitalized in the way that he gets sometimes after incredible sex, but also drowsy.  Beneath him, Eggsy looks barely awake, but he is coherent enough to offer Harry a cheeky grin.

“So, you’re makin’ me breakfast tomorrow, yeah?” he asks, and even his voice is cheeky. 

“Am I?”

“Pretty sure you owe me a full English, after sending me on that last crap assignment.”

“Is that right?” Harry asks.  He is trying to sound arch but somehow he just ends up sounding fond again.  Eggsy grins at him.

Eggsy hums as Harry shifts around until he is lying on his back and then pulls Eggsy onto his chest.  The boy snuggles in close, rubbing his cheek against Harry’s chest hair, and Harry squeezes him tight with one arm.

“I like my eggs poached,” Eggsy murmurs against his skin before cracking a huge yawn.

Harry can’t help but chuckle.  “Go to sleep, you tart.”  Eggsy lifts his head to give Harry a smile and drop a kiss on his mouth, and then rolls over and reaches for the lamp on the table beside the bed.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Merlin continues to watch through the glasses as Harry helps Eggsy come down, through the cuddling and the banter.  Although he usually finds the emotional aspect of this part of the process cloying and unpleasant, he is discovering that when it’s Harry and Eggsy involved he does not mind as much.  Actually enjoys watching the two of them be close, in all honesty.

It’s a first, for him.  He has only ever felt any type of genuine emotional connection with Harry, and that was hard won after years of close contact via Kingsman surveillance and quite a lot of participation in their complementary kinks.  With Harry’s various conquests he has only ever experienced fleeting aesthetic interest, and even that only in as far as it allowed Harry to showcase his frankly outstanding sexual prowess.  But Eggsy, now.  Merlin genuinely likes the boy, feels true fondness for him.  He could see himself, over time, developing a similar, though unique, emotional attachment with Eggsy.

He has been thinking, lately, that it might be time to let Eggsy in on their little arrangement.  If he is reading the boy correctly, and he is certain that he is, once he gets over his surprise he’ll be an enthusiastic participant in their little game.  Merlin sometimes fantasizes about having Eggsy wear his glasses as well, so he can watch the proceedings on two screens, hear every little sound that slips out of Eggsy’s mouth when Harry is taking him apart.

Merlin resolves to talk to Harry about it tomorrow.

On the monitor, Harry has just finished indulging Eggsy’s every last whim and they appear to be settling in for sleep.  Merlin watches, smiling to himself and idly sipping his tea, as Eggsy rolls toward the glasses on the bedside table, his hand disappearing into the extreme foreground as he reaches for the lamp that must be beside the glasses.

Suddenly, startlingly, Eggsy looks straight at the glasses, looking through the monitor directly at Merlin.  He tips a wink, the cheeky little fuck, and then, very clearly, silently mouths the words, “Goodnight, Merlin,” and gives a saucy little smirk.  A second later the screen goes dark as he clicks off the light.

Merlin chokes on his tea.